Some people’s Christmas trees are filled with ornaments that hold deep meaning—each one a memento from a particular year, a gift from a loved one, or a token from a special trip or holiday. There’s something heartwarming about walking past a tree like that, full of personal stories and memories. My tree, though, has never quite been like that. It’s always been a collection of golden baubles and shiny ornaments, carefully chosen for their color and elegance, but without much of a backstory. There are no sentimental decorations passed down through generations or ones that commemorate life’s little milestones. It’s just a pretty tree, with no more meaning than the sparkle it adds to the room.